


Guess Who's Coming to Skyhold

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: The Other Regan [15]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One's parents coming to visit can be more frightening than demons.  Regan thinks this is the case with her parents, and Cullen might end up agreeing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess Who's Coming to Skyhold

“Josephine, tell me you didn’t!” Regan pressed a hand to her head, covering her eyes for a moment before looking back at the letter on her desk. The parchment in front of her didn’t change; the words still spelled out exactly what they had a moment ago. Script she hadn’t seen in ages spelled out the impending shattering of the relatively comfortable pattern she’d finally fallen into since the Conclave debacle. Her parents were coming. Her father and mother were coming, at Josephine’s suggestion. 

She had to warn people, fast. They were due to arrive the following day. Regan had put it off, hoping that something would change, or maybe she would be out at one of the Inquisition’s camps. They still needed to stop Corypheus, after all. But no such luck. She had just returned to Skyhold and wasn’t due to depart for another week. Equipment needed to be repaired, supplies needed replenishing, the horses needed to be tended to. And her family was coming. “Maker, why couldn’t it have just been Weslyn and her brood instead?” 

She shoved the letter into the pouch at her belt and made her way downstairs. If nothing else, she should warn Cullen. He’d be under the most scrutiny once the Trevelyan matriarch arrived. She didn’t plan on hiding whatever it was they were …. What were they, anyway? But her mother could be … intense. She practically ran to Cullen’s office, nearly knocking Solas over in the process. It was almost annoying that taking the shortest path meant she had to cut through the room the elf had chosen as his. “Sorry, Solas,” she shouted as she shoved open the door to the battlements. “I’ll explain later!”

She barged into his office – something she almost never did. “Cul ….” She had expected to find him studying reports or troop movements or something equally boring. But he was standing, hands pressed against his desk, hard. He was staring at … something, a box on his desk, reports and books stacked neatly along the desk’s edges. 

He looked up when his door flew open and tried to smile. It didn’t work. “Inquisitor.” His voice was tense, pained. “Regan. As leader of the Inquisition, you ….” He sighed, looking away. He hated this. Why had he chosen this again? “There’s something I must tell you.”

OK, her news could wait. This looked … well, serious. She’d never seen him quite so upset. “You’re being especially serious today,” she tried to keep her voice light, but didn’t really succeed. When all he did was reply with a faint ‘I know’, she grew more concerned. “Alright, talk to me.” She gently shut the door and made her way over, resting a hand on his arm when she was close enough. “Whatever it is, I’m willing to listen.” 

“Right, thank you.” He felt the lightest touch when her hand settled against his arm and managed a small but genuine smile. He just hoped …. Well, never mind what he hoped. “Lyrium grants templars our abilities, but it controls us as well. Those cut off from it suffer. Some go mad, others die.” He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. He was afraid to look at her, afraid of what she might see. He knew he must look weak to her right now, and he hated that. “We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the templars here, but I … I no longer take it. I stopped when I joined the Inquisition. It’s been more than half a year, now.”

Didn’t he just say that stopping would be harmful? Didn’t he just say he could die? “Cullen, if this could kill you ….” Her hand clenched around his arm, but he couldn’t feel it. The armor there prevented all but the faintest bit of pressure. 

“It hasn’t yet,” he growled softly, finally looking up. He expected … something – anger, revulsion, consternation … something. He hadn’t expected what he saw. Nothing but concern filled those eyes. She was chewing on her lip. He could almost see the start of tears forming, just barely, in the corners of her eyes. His stomach clenched. “After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn’t ….” He tried to explain, bringing his free hand to rest atop hers. “I will not be bound to the order - or that life – any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it. But I would not put the Inquisition, put you, at risk. I’ve asked Cassandra to … watch me. If my ability to lead becomes compromised, I will be relieved from duty.”

She didn’t know what to say. Aaron had never really spoken of lyrium in such a way, but maybe they weren’t allowed? That was a new worry for her; no one had been able to locate either of her missing brothers, and if templars needed lyrium, how was Aaron managing? “Are you in pain?” she asked, searching his eyes for any sort of sign. “Is there anything I can do … to make things easier?”  
“I can endure it,” he whispered, pulling away from her long enough to wrap his arms around her. Manly or not, he really just needed a reassuring hug right then, and she obliged. “I will endure it.” He rested his head against hers, burying his nose in her hair. He just needed to focus for a moment. Then he could return to business. She’d barged in, hadn’t she? Didn’t that mean she had some sort of news? “Did you … did you need me for something?”

“What?” Her reason for seeking him out seemed so … petty … in relation to what he was going through. Did she really want to burden him with more? She almost changed her mind, almost decided not to tell him. But what if her mother said or did something? What if her mother happened to catch of glimpse of them together? She knew she wouldn’t be able to pretend there was nothing there, not now. Before that kiss, maybe it would have been possible. There’d been the awkward flirting and silences and blushes before, but no outright interest had been declared. Now, months after, they knew something was there. They knew they were linked. And her mother would see all that in just a glance.

“My door came flying open,” he reminded her, lightly brushing a kiss against her hair. He was calming, collecting his thoughts again. He really should just toss that box, or hand it off to one of the templars that had arrived. If it wasn’t in his office he wouldn’t be tempted, right? “I assume that means you had urgent need of me?”

She flushed, closing her eyes to try and keep her thoughts in line. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to another kiss,” she finally managed to whisper. Before he could oblige, however, she jumped into the matter that had brought her there in the first place. “But that wasn’t it. I need to warn you. My parents are coming.” 

“So I’ll finally get to meet part of this infamous family of yours?” He ran the fingers of his right hand through her hair, letting fingertips just barely tickle against the edge of her ear. “I fail to see how this could require such a dire warning.”

She closed her eyes, trying to fight a shiver. Couldn’t she just hide here until her family left? No, her mother would seek her out. There was nowhere she would be able to hide. “You don’t understand,” she whimpered, pulling back just enough to clear her head. “My mother is coming.”

“But I thought you liked your family, parents included?” He was confused. What was so bad about her mother? He tried to think back. Had she ever mentioned anything about not getting along with her mother? “Is she a demon?”

“No.”

“Is she a blood mage?”

“No.”

“Is she in any way under Corypheus’ sway?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

“You don’t have much patience for nobility,” Regan pointed out, again wishing she’d had more time … or could make up some excuse to keep her mother away. “I mean, I’m glad my titles didn’t scare you off, but ….”

Oh, right. Her family was nobility. He kept forgetting; she never acted like the nobility he was used to. Was that why she was concerned about her parents’ arrival? “I hadn’t considered ….” Cullen frowned, feeling a new worry tugging at his gut. “I have no title outside the Inquisition; I am little more than a commoner, otherwise. I hope that doesn’t … I mean, does it … bother you?” Maker, please say no; please say no.

“Some members of my family might care.” She tried to hide the annoyed frown. She knew her mother would take issue. Her father just wanted her to be happy, didn’t he? “My mother, especially, but my opinion’s what matters, isn’t it?” When he nodded, relief evident on his face, she smiled. “Good, because I don’t care about a title; I care about you.”

“I’m glad,” he whispered, relieved that one knot in his stomach was coming undone at least. “Everything will be fine, though. I promise. I will be the perfect gentleman while she is here. I shall even put Dorian’s attempts to charm her to shame.”

Regan laughed. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was just overreacting. “Maybe you’re right,” she murmured. She leaned over, gently brushing her lips against his. She missed this when she was away. She felt him wrap around her, pulling her closer. She whimpered softly as someone deepened the kiss – she didn’t really know, or care, who. “Maybe she’ll be so overwhelmed by this place she won’t pay attention to us.” She took a breath, reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair. “The day you kissed me on the battlements … the first time, I mean … how long had you wanted to do that?” Had it felt long overdue for him, too?

He laughed softly, closing his eyes. “Longer than I should admit,” he confessed. “Though I don’t think I ever actually pictured doing so there.” He brushed his fingertips along her cheek and let himself get lost in her eyes. “I always imagined it somewhere more … secluded, special. What about you?” Had she been as tortured by desire as long as he had? 

She blushed, looking away. How could she tell him she’d thought about kissing him back in Haven? Before even making the first trip to Val Royeaux, the thought had crossed her mind. At the time, it had just been a physical attraction – an urge born from nothing more than a physical curiosity. Somewhere along the way, it became so much more. “Since Haven,” was all she would give him. It was vague enough to leave him wondering about specifics, but it gave him some sort of idea. “It was worth the wait, though, and the location was perfect.”

“Not going to give me anything more than that?” he teased, earning an embarrassed headshake in return. He laughed softly. “I’m not very good at all this, am I? If I seem unsure, it’s because it’s been a long time since I’ve wanted anyone in my life.” His arms drifted around her, pulling her to him. “I wasn’t expecting to find that here, or you.” Soft kisses found their way to her lips, fingers threaded through her hair. She was right – this had been worth the wait.

She pushed back when breathing became a necessity. Her cheeks were rosy, warm to the touch. “The Commander of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste,” she laughed, tracing a finger along his jaw and throat. “That will have people talking.” She knew some had seen them. The battlements weren’t that secluded. That runner who’d interrupted had run his mouth to a few others, and things had snowballed from there. It had taken a lot of discussion to convince Cullen not to punish the poor man. 

Cullen sighed, an annoyed chuckle rumbling in his throat. “You wouldn’t believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks.” Almost without fail, when he entered the training grounds or anywhere the soldiers were gathered en mass, conversation all but stopped and all eyes turned towards him. 

“Does it … does it bother you?”

He thought about it for a moment and shook his head. “I would rather my … our … private affairs remain that way,” he admitted, running his fingers along her side. “But if there were nothing here for people to talk about, I would regret it more.” At least he was happy. The gossip couldn’t take that away from him. “Any advice you can give me about dealing with your family?”  
“Run and hide?” Regan grinned, shaking her head. “Come on. We should probably warn the others, too. At the very least, mention it to Dorian. Once mother finds out we are related, she won’t leave him alone.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“How long are they staying again?” Dorian leaned against the door frame. He glanced over his shoulder and watched Regan’s father grooming one of the horses – it looked like Cullen’s horse, Angel.

“I think Regan said a week,” Cullen groaned, burying his head in his hands. He had thought her parents visiting would be simple. He hadn’t realized just how wrong he’d been. “So they should be leaving tomorrow. Maker, it isn’t soon enough.”

Dorian nodded. “You holding up alright?” He’d noticed Cullen hiding in his office more than usual, which was a feat in itself. Even Regan had barely been able to get him out among the living for long.

Cullen groaned, flopping back in his chair with frustration. “I thought she was exaggerating. I was sure she was just being dramatic when she warned me they were coming. I was wrong.” The first time he was introduced to the Trevelyan matriarch, she had all but demanded to know his heritage. Regan had managed to put her off, distracting her with introductions to Madame de Fer and Altus Pavus. She knew their friends titles, and the distant relation of the Pavus family to the Trevelyans, would occupy her long enough for him to retreat. Ever since, he’d done his best to avoid the woman. At least the few times he managed to speak with Regan’s father, Richard, went well.

“Chin up, Commander. They’ll be gone soon, then.” He knew he didn’t have it nearly as bad. Lorainne Trevelyan was quite interested in the miniscule connection their families had. He was expecting her to make a push for a marriage alliance at any time, which might make things awkward. “Just make it through the farewell banquet tomorrow and then everything will be back to normal.”

“Easy for you to say,” Cullen sighed. “You don’t have that woman constantly staring holes into you whenever she sees you. I swear she knows her daughter and I have ….”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when they heard Regan’s agitated voice coming from outside. It was muffled enough that they knew she wasn’t coming to join them, but it was close enough to guess her position. The two cautiously moved out to the battlements to see what was going on, using the sparse foliage and shadows cast by the stone walls as cover to watch.

“I told you, mother. I am not marrying Duke Stick-Up-His-Arse.” Regan was leaning against one of the wooden supports the repair teams were using to fix Skyhold, arms crossed over her chest. Even at this distance, Cullen could see she was exasperated. “You’ve already married Weslyn off to a lord and I’m sure you’re still hunting for some noble girl to convince Tristan to leave Ferelden. Won’t happen, by the way; he likes it there.” 

“Duke Spaulding,” her mother corrected. “Darling, won’t you at least consider …? Your new title gives you much more status than you’d think.” Lorainne pressed her hand against her forehead, obviously growing frustrated with her daughter. “I know of many princes … princes, darling, who would be honored to have your hand.”

“I don’t care, mother,” Regan sighed, angrily running her fingers through her hair. She was so close to just … ripping it out. “I’m not going to marry someone just because you said so. I can’t even think about this right now.” She shoved away from the scaffolding violently. “You do realize that I am trying to save the bloody world, here, right? I don’t have time for these stupid games anymore. I hated them when I was younger, but I humored you because I love you and I lived with you. But things have changed, mother. I still love you, but I have my own life now. I can’t play ‘Let’s Make a Marriage’ anymore.”

“And I love you. I do this because I love you.” Lorainne sighed. The girl had never really understood what her mother was trying to do. “It’s not a game, darling. I want you to have more than your father and I did.”

“Then let me do it myself, mother.” Regan took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut. She shoved all ten fingers into her hair and felt like driving them through her skull. These discussions were always the same. “I have plenty, here. I’ve already met someone, for the Maker’s sake, mother. I don’t know where things are going yet, but I think I … I might lo….” She looked down, finally noticing something was different about the shadows coming from the battlements near Cullen’s office – probably just runners. She scuffed the toe of her boot into the dirt.

“You might what, dear?” Lorainne crossed her arms, watching the girl across from her fidget. 

Annoyed, Regan just dropped her hands. “I can’t do this right now, mother. I … I need to speak with my military advisor. We have troop deployments to discuss.” She turned and stalked toward the long staircase that would take her to the battlements. “I will speak with you later.”

The two men scrambled back into his office, not wanting Regan to know they’d overheard the conversation below. “Who was she talking about,” Cullen wondered aloud. Was she talking about him? Maker, please let it be him. If she’d found another ….

“Really, Cullen?” Dorian laughed, shaking his head. “You really have to ask that?” He patted the man on the shoulder and smiled. “If you can’t tell just by the way she looks at you, you have a problem.” He glanced at his friend’s current wardrobe and smirked. “Well, more than one problem. If you want to make a good impression on the beast out there, you need to dress a little less military and more … well, more like me.”

“Like you?” Cullen laughed, shaking his head. “That’s not … I wouldn’t be ….” He sighed, burying his head in his hands. “It’s not like I have a lot of choices, Dorian. Templars never had anything but uniforms. When I left the order, I just … kept the practice. I don’t have anything else.” He looked up again. “Do you really think she meant … she was talking about … me?” Why was he behaving like a bloody child about this? What was it about her that made him so unsure?

“Do I need to bring Cole in for some mind reading?” Dorian sighed, shaking his head. “Trust me on this one, Cullen. She isn’t interested in anyone else.” He looked the man over again and frowned. There had to be something he could wear for the banquet tomorrow. “Let me see if I can’t work some magic for tomorrow evening.”

“What kind of magic are you planning on working, Dorian,” Regan asked as she made her way into Cullen’s office. She rarely barged in, but his door was wide open. “Maybe turning my mother into a frog?” She headed straight for Cullen, draping her arms over his shoulders and kissing his nose. “Please say you can turn her into a frog.”

Cullen flushed, wondering just how much she’d managed to hear before coming in. He knew she liked him, he really did. It was easy to remember, when she was right there, with him. It was harder when they were apart, when his insecurities and doubts could overwhelm him. He slid an arm around her waist and just held her for a moment, nuzzling just above her ear. Please let Dorian be right.

“Simply trying to figure out what we can dress our dear Commander in for the banquet tomorrow.” Dorian made a point of looking away dramatically, much to Regan’s amusement. “If he wants to make a good impression on your mother ….”

“Did you need something?” Cullen interrupted, feeling his ears flush again. He hated when Dorian did that – talked about him like he wasn’t there. He knew the mage didn’t mean it maliciously, but still …. He knew there were no troop movements to discuss; there wouldn’t be until at least the following day, if not longer. “Not that I mind the visit, of course. It feels like we’ve barely gotten to see each other since your mother arrived.”

“Because you have the option of hiding out in here,” Regan laughed, pulling back just a little. “Meanwhile, I am stuck out where she can find me, all alone.” With a teasing pout, she gently eased out of his arms and stepped back. “Mind getting your sword and meeting me out on the field? I have some … aggression to work out.” She glanced at Dorian and stuck her tongue out when she saw the teasing smile he gave her. “I’m going to grab Bull and Cole too. Might as well get some training in while I’m at it.”

“Wouldn’t you rather use the training swords?” Cullen asked, disliking the sudden emptiness in front of him. “There’s less chance of injury, isn’t there?”

“I’ll be fine,” Regan laughed, grabbing for his hand. “Besides, I know you won’t hurt me.” She motioned for Dorian to follow, and once Cullen had his blade and shield, she led the two men out the door. 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

It was finally nearly over. All that was left was to get through the banquet, and then life could go back to normal. He wouldn’t have to worry about trying to impress, or hide from, Lorainne Trevelyan. He would go back to waiting anxiously for Regan to return from whatever trip she was on, worrying about her safety. And he would welcome it all. Cullen paced nervously, glancing out the window. Dorian was due to arrive at any moment with what he assured Cullen was an outfit that would impress even the Lady Trevelyan. When he arrived, he went straight to work, repeatedly reminding Cullen that both Lady Trevelyans would be impressed, and it would only benefit him.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Cullen stood at her door, waiting for it to open, waiting to lead her to the table like a gentleman. He fidgeted nervously, uncomfortable in the strange jacket Dorian had delivered. It was a hair tight, snug over shoulders that were broader than the mage had anticipated. But it fit well enough. It looked almost black when he had put it on, but the moment he had stepped into the sun he noticed it was a deep green. With the dark leather trousers, he had to admit he looked more … something. He just hoped she would like it, her mother’s opinion be damned.

She was actually nervous. Why was she so bloody nervous? It was just another dinner. She sat through plenty of these as a child. This was no different, right; just a different cast of characters – Aaron, Weslyn, Gabriel and Tristan replaced by her friends in the Inquisition. She’d had Leliana and Josephine help her get ready, not really knowing what to do with her hair or clothes. Both women had been extra gleeful when they discovered they could actually get her in a gown – they didn’t think she even owned a dress. With a breath, she pushed the door open and stepped into the main hall, expecting to see Cullen in his armor. She reached out to take the offered hand and froze her in her tracks.

The door opened, he held out his hand, bowing grandly. “My lady,” he whispered, finally looking up. When he did, he couldn’t help but stare. He’d never seen her in a dress. He hadn’t been aware he wanted to see her in one until just then. He slowly stood, eyes traveling from the hem, which barely brushed against the floor, up the loose skirt, as green as new grass. His gaze paused at the curve of her hips, accentuated by a small amount of beading, then moved upwards over the simple bodice - a darker green embellished by small silver buttons, the modest neckline and loose sleeves. He gulped as his eyes continued along her skin, throat encircled by a simple silver chain. She wore a little makeup, more than normal but nothing outlandish. Her hair was even a little different, a little more polished, adorned with a small sprig of crystal grace. “I … Regan, I … you … you look ….” His voice was barely above a whisper, audible to no one but her, and he still couldn’t find the words. 

While he was taking in her unusual appearance, she was doing the same. The boots and trousers were a rich brown, as dark as chocolate. The jacket was one she’d never seen before; she’d never seen him in anything that wasn’t armor. It was cut to hug his form, stretched taut over his shoulders. She could make out a hint of white around the collar, from his tunic, most likely. She saw the rose tint to his cheeks, knowing it mirrored her own, unless whatever makeup Josephine had piled on was hiding it. His hair looked normal, thank the Maker. She loved the way he styled it on a normal basis almost as much as she liked to run her fingers through it to muss it up. Her eyes met his and they stared, her fingertips ghosting against his palm. “Cullen,” was all she could manage before speech failed her.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, lost in each other’s eyes. The spell was finally broken when Leliana appeared behind her, giving them both a gentle shove. Embarrassed, Cullen led her to the table and pulled her chair back for her to sit. As he gently maneuvered the chair closer to the table, he leaned in to whisper, “You look stunning, my lady,” flicking his tongue, just barely, against the curve of her ear.

She shivered, biting her lip as he pulled away. Maker, he was evil, simply evil. “Thank you, Commander,” she purred softly. She knew her cheeks were flushed, knew her mother could see. She just didn’t care. When Cullen finally sat next to her, she reached over and gently rested her hand atop his, making a silent declaration. She could feel him tense up next to her and could almost imagine him immediately looking over at her parents with fear in his eyes.

Cullen froze when her hand came to rest on his. Normally, he’d have no objections; he loved the feel of her skin against his. But her parents … her mother … was watching. Wasn’t she worried? He risked a glance at the elder Trevelyans and swallowed nervously. Both were looking from their joined hands to her, then him, then back to the hands. They were going to say something, weren’t they? He glanced over at her and saw her shy smile, bright eyes watching him, daring him. Oh, who cared if they were watching? His heart thrumming in his ears, he twisted his hand just enough to wrap his fingers around hers and squeezed. They would make it through this horrible banquet together.

Eventually, they had to separate; there was only so much one could do to manage a banquet’s worth of food and drink with one hand. But every so often, one would drop their hand below the table, tracing soft lines along the other’s thigh. They never went too far into that territory, as much as either might have thought about it, but even the simple touches were enough to send shivers down their spines.

Finally, the end of the banquet came, but before they could make an escape, Richard Trevelyan spoke. “Ser Cullen, if I might have a word?” 

Cullen swallowed nervously, eyes wide as he looked at Regan. He had no idea what her father wanted, nor did he really want to leave her within her mother’s reach. But it would be worse if he said no, wouldn’t it? Slowly, he nodded, following the older man out of the main hall, down the stairs and all the way to the stables. Neither man spoke, Cullen’s nerves growing more and more palpable. He watched as Richard leaned against the fence in front of one of the horses. It took him a moment to realize it was Angel’s.

“We went riding the other day, Regan and I,” Richard began. “My daughter let me ride your horse. She said you wouldn’t mind.” He reached out and gently ran a hand along Angel’s neck. 

“I … um ….” Cullen struggled for a response, caught off guard by the unexpected subject. Whatever he had been expecting when her father pulled him aside, this wasn’t it. “She’s not my horse,” he finally answered. “She’s an Inquisition mount; she belongs to everyone.”

“But you favor her, when you need to choose a mount, yes?” Richard asked, turning to face Cullen. “And you take extra care when you return to brush her down thoroughly. Sneak her apples or carrots when you think no one’s looking?”

Cullen flushed, looking away. How had he known …? They’d only been here a week and he’d done little around the stables during that time. But it was true. Once he’d seen Angel, he’d felt drawn to her, almost as much as he felt drawn to Regan. And she seemed to listen to him better than anyone else; he could even ride into battle and trust that she would go where needed without his direction. “I … yes, ser. How … did you know?”

“I didn’t,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Regan gave me a bit of an idea, and I made a good guess.” He looked Cullen over, slightly amused by the man’s apparent embarrassment at being caught. “She speaks quite highly of you. Couldn’t get more than two sentences before she went right back to you, honestly.” He saw the man turn red again and start to stammer. “Oh, don’t worry, lad. I’m not nearly as concerned with titles as Lorainne. As long as you love her, you have my blessing.”

Cullen just … stared. He didn’t know whether to hug the man or run away in terror. Did he love her? Maker, he did, didn’t he? “I … I think I do, ser … love her, I mean,” he murmured, trying the word out for the first time. “We’ve only known each other for a short while, and haven’t done … um … but I worry from the moment she rides out until the moment she is back in my arms. I … I know I am not worthy of her, but I pray I can become so.” He looked down, stopping just short of wringing his hands. “I … am not a noble, but I … I hope that will not matter. She … she says she does not care about a title, and … I … I ….”

“Relax son.” Richard patted his shoulder. “I’m not here to run you off. I … believe you make her happy. And that’s all that matters to me. Her mother will come around. She puts more importance on this because her parents were of lower birth – still noble, but barely. Her father was … quite persuasive when speaking with my parents. Things worked out for the best, I think. But I would still rather my girl be happy.”

“I … thank you, ser.” Cullen felt his stomach knot up. “I … um, I … want that as well.” He wanted her happiness more than he’d ever wanted anything. Well, almost anything. He had to admit, at least to himself, that he wanted her to love him as much as he loved her. Now, if he could only admit it to her. 

“After all, it’s not every day I see her willingly wearing a dress.” Richard laughed, shaking his head. “Even as a girl, it took hours of carefully planned debates to get her to wear one. And yet, there she was tonight, looking as pleased as I’ve ever seen her, once she saw you looking at her.”

“She did look … amazing,” Cullen sighed. He turned bright red as he realized what he’d said, to her father of all people. 

“Go on, lad. Let’s get back to her. I’m sure she could use an excuse to escape her mother.” Richard gave Angel one last stroke, slipped her a chunk of apple, and walked with Cullen back to the main hall. “I’ll handle her mother. Don’t fret about that,” he assured Cullen. “You just keep making her happy.”

“I … I will do my best, ser,” Cullen murmured, catching a glimpse of her leaning against the throne, speaking with her mother. His gut clenched. Maker, she was so …. He wished he could hear what she was saying; he wished she would just … look over at him. And then she did, and his throat went dry. “I will do my very best, for as long as I live.” 

 

“So, what was that all about?” Regan asked as she felt Cullen’s arms wrap around her, his chest against her back. They had finally managed to escape for a moment and found themselves on the battlements nearest his office, staring at the stars. It was the first time she’d had a chance to ask since he’d returned from whatever her father had wanted.

“What was what about?” he asked, leaning in to nuzzle just above her ear. His breath was warm, tickling against her skin. After the discussion with her father, he felt … less self-conscious about holding her in full view of the keep. Maker, how he loved the feel of her in his arms, against him. He let his hands slide gently to her hips.

“You and my father,” she prompted, fighting the urge to shiver as his whispers tickled her ear. “You were gone for quite a while. Left me with mother, all by myself.” She reached for his hands, gently tickled her fingers against his skin. 

He laughed softly, nibbling gently at her ear. “Oh, nothing much,” he hedged. He shifted just enough to bring his lips to her neck, ghosting gentle kisses across her skin. He grinned at the soft whimper he heard. “He did say something about you taking him riding.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” she purred, squirming against him. She closed her eyes and sighed, enjoying the moment. She had wanted to touch him, to hold him, have him hold her. She tilted her head, giving him easier access to her neck, whimpering softly. Oh, how she’d missed this. “Besides, it … it gave me time to tell him how wonderful you … you are.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he grinned, dragging his teeth gently over her skin. His hands drifted up her sides, clenching every so often, stopping just below her breasts. As much as he wanted to go further, touch more, he hesitated. He knew nobles had rules, expectations. He wanted to do this right. “You look … so … absolutely … stunning tonight,” he whispered, voice low and intense. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

She inhaled sharply, torn between wanting to remain in this position and twisting around to kiss him. She gave in, turning around in his arms until she faced him. “That was the plan,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. “I’m glad all Josephine and Leliana’s hard work was worth it.” She brushed her lips against his, sighing softly as his hands pulled her close.

Cullen groaned, soft and desperate as his hands came to rest on her rear. “You could wear nothing at all, fresh from training, and still be stunning,” he purred. He kissed her again, then realized just what he had said. He felt her whole body grow warm beneath his fingers, turned bright pink, looked away, tried to will away the sudden image brought to mind. He shouldn’t … shouldn’t be thinking such things. “I … um, I’m … I shouldn’t have said ….” He swallowed, trying to collect his thoughts. “That was improper, lo … Regan. I am … sorry.”

She whimpered, swallowed, stared at him. He said that, hadn’t he? She licked her lips, watching as his eyes dipped to follow her tongue. She saw his lips part, heard short, gasping breaths. “Cul … Cullen,” she whispered. “I want … I don’t … I lov- ….” She couldn’t make her words work. She wanted to go so much further, but …. “It’s ok, Cullen,” she whispered. “I … I’m glad you … you think so.” She was never that confident in her looks, knowing she could easily pass for a man if she wasn’t careful. To hear he thought she was attractive …. She pressed her lips against his again, grabbing at his shoulders, his shirt, anything she could reach. 

After what seemed like hours, Cullen finally pulled away. He hated leaving her lips, but it … was getting late. If she wanted to see her parents off, she needed to get some sleep, didn’t she? Besides, she was due to head out not long after, wasn’t she? More work to be done, somewhere. He cleared his throat, rubbed the back of his neck. He could still feel the tingle of her lips on his. “I … as much as I … ahem, enjoy this, my lady … I fear we … should return to our rooms?” 

She whimpered, frowned, pouted, and knew he was right. “Do we have to?” she grumbled, not particularly wanting to leave his embrace. She didn’t want to think about riding out again. Who knew how long she would be in the Western Approach, with all that damnable sand. 

He sighed, fighting to steel himself against her pleading eyes. “Unfortunately, sunrise comes far too soon and we both have duties to perform in the morning.” He brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “If I could, I would stay here, with you, for an eternity. But the people need us.”

“Come find me before I leave,” she asked, nuzzling at his throat. He nodded in return, biting back a groan. “Good night, love,” she whispered, brushing a final kiss against his lips before starting toward the main hall and her room. 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“We will be in touch, dear.” Lorainne hugged her daughter stiffly. She was still irritated at the display at dinner the previous night. It wasn’t that she didn’t think her daughter capable of finding an adequate husband. It wasn’t even that she disliked the Commander. She just didn’t want her daughter to settle for less than she was due. She could learn to love any man, if she gave herself a chance and she was destined for so much. “The duke will wait a bit longer for his answer.”

“Give it up, mother,” Regan smirked, returning the hug. “You can tell Duke Stick-Up-His-Arse that he can take his arrangement and shove it up his … ahem, tell him I’m not interested. The Inquisition values his support, but there will be no marriage alliance involving me.” She moved to hug her father, clinging tighter than she’d planned. “Talk some sense into her, father? You know I’m serious.”

“I know, dearling.” Richard kissed her forehead and smiled. “I’ll handle your mother. You just take care of yourself, and … well, you know who.” He looked over at Cullen and winked, then turned to guide his wife into their carriage. “But she is correct in one thing, daughter.” He looked back at the group gathered to send them off. “We’ll certainly be in touch.”

As the carriage headed across the bridge, Regan sighed. It was almost time to head out again. This week had been anything but relaxing, and now she would be riding to investigate something or another at the Western Approach. Maker, how she wished she could just … stay for a while longer.   
“Ready, Boss?” Bull chuckled, leading his battle-nug, affectionately called Thunder, and one of the drakolisks over. “Sera and Solas are getting their beasts ready. Figured I’d save you a trip to the stables and bring Uktena over for you; Dennet says Thranduil doesn’t do well in the sand.” 

“Might as well get underway, then,” Regan sighed, taking the reins from her friend and rested her forehead against the beast’s neck. “Why did they have to stay for a whole week? I didn’t get any rest at all.” 

“You sure it was them keeping you up?” Bull laughed as Sera and Solas rode up. The mage was riding one of the other harts, bareback, while Sera sat awkwardly atop a horse she called Breeches; no one wanted to ask why. “Couldn’t be some … thing else?”

“Ha ha,” Regan smirked. “Very funny, Bull.” She ran a hand along her mount as she moved toward the saddle. Just as she had a foot in the stirrup, was ready to pull herself up, Cullen called out.

“My lady Inquisitor, wait!” He watched as she stopped, turned to face him. He smiled, closing the distance between them quickly. What was he doing? He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. There were so many people watching. He reached for her, pulled her against him. With a hungry smile, he devoured her lips, growling softly in his throat. 

Maker, he was doing this here? In front of everyone? But hadn’t he wanted to keep things private? She whimpered lightly, feeling his hands drift, one gripping her ass, the other burying in her hair. She could hear Blackwall’s amused laugh somewhere in the distance, Bull and Sera cheering, chatter from the rest of the soldiers around them. She clutched at his shoulders, held him as they kissed. 

He finally pulled back, heart racing, pulse pounding. He didn’t care that people were staring, cheering; that actually surprised him a little – he’d expected to be embarrassed by it. He grinned as he took in the flush of her cheeks, the little gasps passing through her lips. “Come back to me soon, my love,” he purred, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Every day will be torture until you are back with me.”

“You can count on it,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. “Especially if the welcome home is anything like the send off.” She took a deep breath to calm her racing pulse and pulled herself into the saddle, ignoring the teasing side-eye from Bull and Sera. She’d never hear the end of it from them, she was sure. And when Dorian heard about it … oh, Maker, she would seriously just have to hide. But, honestly, she didn’t care. She just wished her mother could have seen it. Wait, had he said … had he called her …? He just said that! He just called her ‘my love’! She felt her gut clench and a warmth spread through her as they rode out the gate. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. He was still watching her. She blew him a kiss, wishing again that she didn’t have to leave, then turned and galloped off.


End file.
